On Monday, FOG had a Mad Lib Contest where I took out several key elements of a story and asked you to replace them. The story is one I wrote called Ten Minutes: Three Reasons, a piece of flash fiction I wrote in ten minutes. The original text is as follows:

“Rachel, will you marry me?” Will said from the one knee he was leaning on.

“Why would I do that?” came the unexpected reply.

Will obviously hadn’t thought that far ahead. He should have. Rachel was a lawyer. This would have to be a negotiation.

Will stood up and began pacing like Cary Grant in that old movie Arsenic And Old Lace. “OK,” he said, “reason one.” Rachel sat down on the sofa. “Um,” Will was just full of pregnant pauses today. “OK, reason one. You love me.”

“Well, of course, I do, Will. Otherwise I wouldn’t have spent the latter half of my twenties with you. But is that a good enough reason? My parents loved each other, too. They divorced only three years later.”

“OK, Rachel, I still think it’s a valid reason though. People who love each other and spend seven years dating should get married. It’s what humans do. And for the record, I love you very much. Reason two. We would have beautiful children.”

Here are the results in the order in which they were received. At the end of the post, you’ll find a voting box where you can vote for your favorite. Good job and good luck everyone!

alexp01 from Excerpts From Nonexistent Books

“Murgatroyd, will you crash me?” Ruddygore said from the one aircraft carrier he was re-arming on.

“Why would I do that?” came the leaky reply.

Ruddygore assassinatingly hadn’t decontaminated that eerie ahead. He should have. Murgatroyd was a predator drone. This would have to boldly go a rogue state.

Ruddygore stood up and began enriching like Cary Unstable in that old movie Mad Scientist And Old Clone Tank. “OK,” he said, “F-18 one.” Murgatroyd sat down on the warhead. “Um,” Ruddygore was just full of pregnant mecha-ants today. “OK, F-18 one. You love terrorists.”

“Well, of course, I do, Ruddygore. Otherwise I wouldn’t have demilitarized the decoded half of my Geiger counter with you. But is that an unstable enough F-18? My parents plummeted each other, too. They nuked only North Korean years later.”

“OK, Murgatroyd, I still think it’s a radioactive F-18 though. People who love terrorists and spend seven years glowing should get crashed. It’s what bomb shelters do. And for the dragonfruit, I love terrorists very much. F-18 two. We would uranium-238 juicy children.”

I want to boldly go a-rogue-statin’.

Zoe G from behindthemaskofabuse & Buckwheatsrisk

“Elmer Fudd, will you divert me?” Englebert said from the one boob he was bashing on.

“Why would I do that?” came the repulsive reply.

Englebert abruptly hadn’t thought that vast ahead. He should have. Elmer Fudd was a morgue. This would have to eat an undertaker.

Englebert stood up and began picking like Cary Gun in that old movie Cave And Old Booger. “OK,” he said, “Toilet one.” Elmer Fudd sat down on the nipple. “Um,” Englebert was just full of pregnant boobs today. “OK, toilet one. You love twins.”

“Well, of course, I do, Englebert. Otherwise I wouldn’t have forgotten the powerful half of my mask with you. But is that a bewildered enough toilet? My parents forbid each other, too. They beat only slighted years later.”

“OK, Elmer Fudd, I still think it’s an uninterested toilet though. People who love twins and spend seven years digging should get diverted. It’s what bodies do. And for the ice pick, I love twins very much. Toilet two. We would escape ugly children.”

I think that toilet is bewildered enough.

merbear74 from Knocked Over By A Feather

“Gumby, will you scatter me?” Al said from the one ball he was farting on.

“Why would I do that?” came the adorable reply.

Al achingly hadn’t begged that crazy ahead. He should have. Gumby was a skirt. This would have to love a truck.

Al stood up and began burping like Cary Pantaloon in that old movie Underwear And Old Diaper. “OK,” he said, “Cracker one.” Gumby sat down on the dog. “Um,” Al was just full of pregnant gasses today. “OK, cracker one. You love tickets.”

“Well, of course, I do, Al. Otherwise I wouldn’t have farted the funny half of my apple with you. But is that an asscracking enough cracker? My parents burped each other, too. They sharted only handsome years later.”

“OK, Al, I still think it’s an ugly cracker though. People who love tickets and spend seven years hugging should get scattered. It’s what creeks do. And for the poo, I love tickets very much. Cracker two. We would drop awesomesauce children.”

Why the one ball, Al?

Apprentice Never Master

“Tulip, will you scrape me?” Tulip said from the one tulip he was bouncing on.

“Why would I do that?” came the dangerous reply.

Tulip decidedly hadn’t opened that dangerous ahead. He should have. Tulip was a tulip. This would have to lose a tulip.

Tulip stood up and began bouncing like Cary Tulip in that old movie Tulip And Old Tulip. “OK,” he said, “Tulip one.” Tulip sat down on the tulip. “Um,” Tulip was just full of pregnant teddy bears today. “OK, tulip one. You love teddy bears.”

“Well, of course, I do, Tulip. Otherwise I wouldn’t have drank the dangerous half of my tulips with you. But is that a dangerous enough tulip? My parents drank each other, too. They drank only dangerous years later.”

“OK, Tulip, I still think it’s a dangerous tulip though. People who love teddy bears and spend seven years bouncing should get scraped. It’s what tulips do. And for the tulip, I love teddy bears very much. Tulip two. We would scrape dangerous children.”

There’s a lot of tulip on tulip action here.

Katie from Sass And Balderdash

“John Travolta, will you bake me?” Elton John said from the one blue cheese he was hopskotching on.

“Why would I do that?” came the arrant reply.

Elton John shiteously hadn’t Googled that Jabba the Hutt ahead. He should have. John Travolta was a bubblegum. This would have to kill a vibrator.

Elton John stood up and began planking like Cary Nose in that old movie Sock And Old Owl. “OK,” he said, “Wallpaper one.” John Travolta sat down on the daisy. “Um,” Elton John was just full of pregnant Korean hookers today. “OK, wallpaper one. You love Penthouse magazines.”

“Well, of course, I do, Elton John. Otherwise I wouldn’t have exhausted the unbecoming half of my penis ruler with you. But is that an overly-moled enough wallpaper? My parents obstructed each other, too. They helicoptered only assholish years later.”

“OK, John Travolta, I still think it’s a tie-dyed wallpaper though. People who love Penthouse magazines and spend seven years praying should get baked. It’s what goatees do. And for the tacky tattoo, I love Penthouse magazines very much. Wallpaper two. We would escape flamboyant children.”

Elton John should really lay off those pregnant Korean hookers.

Kirsten H. Whyte from The Rambling Diaries

“Uley the Unicorn, will you fart me?” Fairy Godmother said from the one enchanted forest he was skipping on.

“Why would I do that?” came the dappled reply.

Fairy Godmother lovely hadn’t slipped that humongous ahead. He should have. Uley the Unicorn was a sunshine. This would have to teach a rainbow.

Fairy Godmother stood up and began fanning like Cary Mushrooms in that old movie Beanstalk And Old Glass Slipper. “OK,” he said, “Cheese one.” Uley the Unicorn sat down on the lemons. “Um,” Fairy Godmother was just full of pregnant magic beans today. “OK, cheese one. You love forest nymphs.”

“Well, of course, I do, Fairy Godmother. Otherwise I wouldn’t have burped the warm half of my princess with you. But is that a talked enough cheese? My parents giggled each other, too. They waved only big years later.”

“OK, Uley the Unicorn, I still think it’s a petite cheese though. People who love forest nymphs and spend seven years rolling should get farted. It’s what crowns do. And for the willy, I love forest nymphs very much. Cheese two. We would grab fluffy children.”

Hey, Uley the Unicorn, I think it’s a petite cheese, too.

Cheri from Cheri Speak

“Pete, will you spoke me?” Jenny said from the one tong he was gorging on.

“Why would I do that?” came the crisp reply.

Jenny appraisingly hadn’t fed that smooth ahead. He should have. Pete was an Andy Warhol. This would have to will The Vatican.

Jenny stood up and began pining like Cary Ladder in that old movie Shaman And Old Printer. “OK,” he said, “The Chancellor one.” Pete sat down on the wine. “Um,” Jenny was just full of pregnant Ande’s Mints today. “OK, The Chancellor one. You love speakers.”

“Well, of course, I do, Jenny. Otherwise I wouldn’t have peed the runny half of my painting with you. But is that a hot enough The Chancellor? My parents choked each other, too. They tripped only pokey years later.”

“OK, Pete, I still think it’s a sharp The Chancelor though. People who love speakers and spend seven years spinning should get spoken. It’s what rugs do. And for the wine glass, I love speakers very much. The Chancellor two. We would giggle shakey children.”

I wouldn’t recommend gorging on tongs.

Twindaddy from Stuph Blog

“Willie Fisterbottom, will you urinate me?” Scooter said from the one testicle he was douching on.

“Why would I do that?” came the horny reply.

Scooter stupidly hadn’t chafed that unclean ahead. He should have. Willie Fisterbottom was a butt hair. This would have to spank a ballsack.

Scooter stood up and began spooning like Cary Wet Willy in that old movie Dirty Sanchez And Old Happy Ending. “OK,” he said, “vibrator one.” Willie Fisterbottom sat down on the belly button lint. “Um,” Scooter was just full of pregnant bitches today. “OK, vibrator one. You love nuts.”

“Well, of course, I do, Scooter. Otherwise I wouldn’t have fucked the rank half of my boob with you. But is that a stinky enough vibrator? My parents shat each other, too. They humped only jank years later.”

“OK, Willie Fisterbottom, I still think it’s a stubby vibrator though. People who love nuts and spend seven years boot knocking should get urinated. It’s what butt itches do. And for the premature ejaculation, I love nuts very much. Vibrator two. We would squirt infected children.”

I do not want to see the movie Dirty Sanchez And Old Happy Ending.

Revis Edgewater from 33 Grams of Blog & Stuph Blog

“Holden Magroin, will you shit me?” Pu Onyu said from the one turd burglar he was jizzing on.

“Why would I do that?” came the erect reply.

Pu Onyu heterosexually hadn’t jerked that skanky ahead. He should have. Holden Magroin was a dingleberry. This would have to urinate a ball sweat.

Pu Onyu stood up and began farting like Cary Semen in that old movie Breast And Old Scrotum. “OK,” he said, “Orgasm one.” Holden Magroin sat down on the guy with diarrhea. “Um,” Pu Onyu was just full of pregnant rectums today. “OK, orgasm one. You love sperm.”

“Well, of course, I do, Pu Onyu. Otherwise I wouldn’t have ejaculated the drunk half of my fecal matter with you. But is that a slutty enough orgasm? My parents defecated each other, too. They sucked only loose years later.”

“OK, Holden Magroin, I still think it’s an anal orgasm though. People who love sperm and spend seven years licking should get shat. It’s what prostitutes do. And for the pervert, I love sperm very much. Orgasm two. We would hump oral children.”

Holden Magroin and Pu Onyu… a love story.

Not Quite Alice from My Rabbit Hole Trips

“Fred, will you spit me?” Batman said from the one booger he was gassing on.

“Why would I do that?” came the slimy reply.

Batman creepily hadn’t scratched that hairy ahead. He should have. Fred was a tomb. This would have to die a crypt.

Batman stood up and began plucking like Cary Street in that old movie Cave And Old Spider. “OK,” he said, “Poison one.” Fred sat down on the acid. “Um,” Batman was just full of pregnant penguins today. “OK, poison one. You love poopies.”

“Well, of course, I do, Batman. Otherwise I wouldn’t have oozed the fanatical half of my Roman with you. But is that a hairy enough poison? My parents bled each other, too. They withered only scabby years later.”

“OK, Fred, I still think it’s an uneven poison though. People who love poopies and spend seven years necking should get spat. It’s what rubies do. And for the cock, I love poopies very much. Poison two. We would beg epic children.”

I’m sure you wouldn’t mind seeing Fred sit down on the acid.

MainerChick from Mainer Chick’s Living In Maine

“Chris, will you quick me?” Jenna said from the one beaver he was swooning on.

“Why would I do that?” came the furry reply.

Jenna smoothly hadn’t planned that chilly ahead. He should have. Chris was a wood. This would have should not be measured a bed.

Jenna stood up and began snuggling like Cary Rug in that old movie Couch And Old Desk. “OK,” he said, “Dining table one.” Chris sat down on the dresser. “Um,” Jenna was just full of pregnant pillows today. “OK, dining table one. You love feathers.”

“Well, of course, I do, Jenna. Otherwise I wouldn’t have played the firm half of my blanket with you. But is that a soft enough dining table? My parents loved each other, too. They licked only fuzzy years later.”

“OK, Chris, I still think it’s a wet dining table though. People who love feathers and spend seven years dreaming should get quicked. It’s what walls do. And for the camera, I love feathers very much. Dining table two. We would slow bright children.”

I prefer soft, wet dining tables myself.

jrosenberry1 from Blog It Or Lose It!

“Velma, will you tumble me?” Francisco said from the one mustard he was puffing on.

“Why would I do that?” came the limp reply.

Francisco silkily hadn’t chained that piggish ahead. He should have. Velma was a cocoon. This would have to fluff a pooch.

Francisco stood up and began mumbling like Cary Moon Pie in that old movie Hamonica And Old Showdown. “OK,” he said, “Cabbage one.” Velma sat down on the tanker. “Um,” Francisco was just full of pregnant buttercups today. “OK, cabbage one. You love peanuts.”

“Well, of course, I do, Francisco. Otherwise I wouldn’t have slunk the shaggy half of my bratwurst with you. But is that a creamy enough cabbage? My parents skipped each other, too. They scratched only dusty years later.”

“OK, Velma, I still think it’s a skanky cabbage though. People who love peanuts and spend seven years snorting should get tumbled. It’s what sauerkrauts do. And for the cowpie, I love peanuts very much. Cabbage two. We would muffle windblown children.”

Muffle windblown children. Bwahaha.

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Now, please vote for your favorite. One vote per person and you don’t get to see the results until voting ends on Monday. I’m mean like that.

If you’re having trouble with this poll, you can vote directly on Polldaddy.

Thanks for participating and voting!

A special thank you goes out to the first four participants who had to redo their answers. Over half of their answers were obliterated because I stupidly tried using WordPress forms. I am pretty sure there is a limit on the number of fields you can have on a form since only the first twelve answers were emailed to me. The rest just vanished. Way to go, WordPress. 😐

Also, this is the 600th post on this blog. Yay me!